Max's Drafting Room
by Mythril Moth
Summary: A series of short, silly drabbles set in Max's drafting room, where Monica questions the validity, logic, sanity, and good taste of some of his inventions.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Notes:**

Just a little set of silly drabbles based on the protagonists of my all-time favorite console RPG. Enjoy!

* * *

 **DARK CHRONICLE: "MAX'S DRAFTING ROOM"**

 _by Mythril Moth_

 **1**

Monica Raybrandt walked into Max's drafting room, searching for the young inventor.

Watching Max work was always interesting. It amazed her that Max could look at photos of three completely unrelated things and get inspired to create useful inventions. Admittedly, some of his "inventions" were things other people had already invented—like, for example, bottled water—but when he had a genuine flash of inspiration, it was always amazing to watch.

Today, Max stood before his idea board, deep in contemplation. Monica walked up behind him, taking care to walk silently so as not to disturb him. She studied the idea board; today, the three photos pinned to it were of a dog, a chicken, and a clock.

Monica frowned. _Alright, I admit I don't understand how Max's thought process works, but what could he possibly—_

"I've got it!" Max shouted excitedly. He hurried over to his drafting table, grabbing a pen and hurriedly sketching out detailed schematics on a sheet of paper. Monica watched with interest...that slowly turned to confusion and dismay as the "invention" took shape.

"Yeah, it works!" Max cried as he held up his finished invention schematic proudly. On it were detailed instructions for creating...a Turd.

Monica facepalmed. "Oh, Max..."

* * *

"Hey Max, wanna go...oh, you're busy."

Once again, Monica had found Max in his drafting room, studying his idea board. Wondering what he was working on today, she walked up behind him. This time, the idea board held a photograph of Monica herself, a balloon, and a post. Monica tilted her head curiously. "Huh...?"

"That's it!" Max cried, rushing over to the drafting table and getting to work. Monica watched from a safe distance as Max sketched out his schematics. "Yeah!" he laughed as he held up his finished design proudly.

Monica's face burned red at the extremely detailed and inappropriate drawing on the paper, beside which was the invention, which Max had christened a 'condom'. "What the heck?!"

* * *

Monica frowned at the idea board. Once again, a picture of herself—this time wearing her leopard-print bikini—was pinned to the board, along with a photo of the Ixion. The third picture was a big empty glass. "I'm not even sure I wanna know," she said, turning to Max.

Max grinned cheekily and held up a drawing of a milkshake. "Say cheese!"

Monica growled at him and stormed off in a huff.

* * *

The drafting room was empty. Monica almost turned around and left to search for Max elsewhere, but she noticed three photos pinned to the idea board. She walked over, examining them. "Hmm...a pipe, a vacuum cleaner motor, and an oyster?" Monica scratched her head. "What's this gonna be, a new gun?"

"Oh, hey Monica!" Monica turned around to see Max in the doorway, holding a half-eaten sandwich. "Sorry, were you looking for me? I was grabbing a snack."

"Oh, okay." Monica glanced at the board. "So what's this invention?"

"Huh?" Max looked at the board. "Oh yeah! Actually, this is something I invented for you."

"What? For me?"

"Yeah! It, umm...it's a present I made," Max said, his cheeks pink. "I was gonna surprise you with it. I already...hang on." He put his sandwich down and went over to a large trunk in the corner, rummaging through it. "Here we go!" He emerged holding a large, disturbingly phallic object. One end was covered in little bumps; the other end had small cranks and buttons all over it. He presented it proudly to Monica.

Monica took a step back, looking at it in confusion and alarm. "Uhh...what _is_ it?"

"It's, well...it's just something you can use for fun, you know?" Max said, his face flaming. "When you're by yourself, I mean. Look what it does!" He pressed one of the buttons and turned the crank; the thing started buzzing and the knobby tip turned on a ball pivot.

Monica blinked. "Umm...so what am I supposed to _do_ with it?"

"Oh, you know! You put it..." Max gestured vaguely. "You know, down...down there..." He trailed off, then mumbled, "Y'know, _in..._ "

Monica gasped, jumping back. "MAX!" she shrieked.

* * *

 _Dark Chronicle is the intellectual property of Level-5, Inc. This intellectual property is used without permission with no intent to profit from said use. The unique content contained on this page is the property of Mythril Moth, and redistribution of this content without express permission is strongly discouraged._


	2. Chapter 2

**DARK CHRONICLE: "MAX'S DRAFTING ROOM"**

 _by Mythril Moth_

 **2**

"Hey, Max?"

"Yeah, Monica?"

"Something's been bothering me for a while." Monica looked around the drafting room at all Max's various folders of invention notes. "You know how you keep making stronger versions of Steve's weapons?" At Max's nod, Monica continued, "The thing is, they all look exactly the same. They're just stronger." She tilted her head. "Why is it you have to get inspiration from a completely different set of random pictures to make a better version of something that looks exactly the same?"

Max opened his mouth to answer, stopped, frowned, and shook his head. "It's complicated."

"Uh-huh, right," Monica said.

"No, really! It's all about how, like, okay...so I made this, but then I see this thing, and I'm thinking 'hey, this could be a lot stronger if it was more like _this!_ '" Max gesticulated with his hands as he spoke. "You see?"

"Not really, no," Monica said, shaking her head. "Nevermind, I guess as long as it works, that's all that matters..."

* * *

"Monica! Quick! I need your boobs!" Max blurted as he barged into the room in a breathless rush, his camera swinging around his neck.

"Wh-WHAT?!" Monica gasped, her face burning red as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"No time to explain! Take 'em out!" Max said as he readied his camera.

"M-Max...no!" Monica protested. "No, I'm not letting you take a _picture of my breasts!_ "

"Monica, it's important! Everything's riding on this invention, but I can't do it without you!"

Monica blinked. "W-well..." She sighed. "A-alright..." Her face redder than her hair, she stripped off her top and her bra, then put her arms behind her back and thrust her chest forward. The shutter clicked and the flash flashed.

"Perfect! Thanks." Max turned around and ran off.

"H-hey, wait!" Monica cried, quickly putting her bra and top back on and running after him. When she finally found him, he was hard at work on his drafting table, and three photos were pinned to the idea board: her breasts, the rotating sign on Ferdinand's Chinese Stand, and the decorative lights from one of the shops at Gundorada Workshop. Monica frowned, tilting her head. "What...?"

"You'll see," Max said.

A week later, Monica stood in Palm Brinks' brand new nightclub, staring up at a rotating colored light rig in the middle of the ceiling which consisted of four large, round domes shining different-colored lights on the floor as they spun. She folded her arms and glared at Max. "Seriously?"

"What?" Max replied defensively. "I couldn't open the new nightclub without some really killer lights!"

Monica facepalmed. "You're a jerk, you know that?"

* * *

Max found Monica standing before the idea board in his drafting room, hand on her chin in a cute approximation of his thinking pose. "Monica? What's up?"

"Oh, hey Max!" Monica turned to face him, putting a hand on her hip. "I was just trying my hand at this whole inventing thing."

"Oh yeah?" Max walked over to stand beside her, looking at the idea board. "Let's see...huh?" Pinned to the board were three photos: Monica, Max, and a bed. Max scratched his head. "Uhh...what're you supposed to get out of this?"

Monica giggled. "You can't figure it out? Because I already invented it."

Max tilted his head and glanced at her. "Yeah? Well what is it?"

Monica smiled. "I'll give you a hint," she said, putting a hand on her stomach. "It's really small and it takes about nine months to make."

Max blinked in confusion. After a long moment, his eyes widened and his mouth slowly opened in shock. "You mean...?"

"You'd better hurry up and invent a crib and some diapers," Monica said teasingly. "Oh, and pickles and ice cream."

* * *

 _Dark Chronicle is the intellectual property of Level-5, Inc. This intellectual property is used without permission with no intent to profit from said use. The unique content contained on this page is the property of Mythril Moth, and redistribution of this content without express permission is strongly discouraged._


End file.
